A Nation Teased by a Stale Promise of Supremacy

Fans in Montevideo watching Uruguay’s first match, against Costa Rica. In a seemingly fitting story line, the Uruguayans had early success but fell, 3-1.CreditMatilde Campodonico/Associated Press

By Andreas Campomar

June 14, 2014

MONTEVIDEO, Uruguay — Few in Uruguay will have heard of the English man of letters Cyril Connolly. Yet his most famous phrase — “Whom the gods wish to destroy they first call promising” — would not be lost on a country used to auspicious starts.

The seeds of Uruguayan exceptionalism were sown early. After the country hosted and won the inaugural World Cup, in 1930, the president of the Uruguayan Football Association gave a moving speech in which he stated his expectation that the country take its place as the first among all nations.

Unfortunately for the diminutive republic, a world championship in soccer meant just that and nothing more. Uruguay may have been the team of the 1920s, but by the end of the decade, the sun was already beginning to set on its empire.

For Uruguayans, however, this notion of having been worldbeaters — compounded by a victory over Brazil in the 1950 World Cup final — was now ingrained in the nation’s psyche. The words of the Uruguayan coach Ondino Viera years later would only reinforce the nation’s distorted attitude toward the game: “Other countries have their history; Uruguay has its soccer.” He failed to realize that other countries possessed both.

Across the Río de la Plata from Buenos Aires lies Montevideo, a quiet reminder of a more polite age for many Argentines. Time slows when one crosses that muddy estuary.

The Uruguayan writer Eduardo Galeano once described the city as sleeping “its eternal siesta on the sloping hills of the coast ... boring and beloved, smelling of bread in the summer and smoke in the winter.”

The old colonial Montevideo is fast dying out, usurped by a shinier 21st-century version of what Uruguayans feel a Latin American city should be.

But some things in this city never change. World Cup fever here is high. The street vendors, visible on most corners, sell the national flag in various forms. The belief is palpable.

Uruguayans seem to have long memories only when it suits them.

Four years ago, Uruguay’s run to the World Cup semifinals was born of good fortune rather than great skill. Nevertheless, the country suspended its disbelief. This was proof that Uruguay could still compete at the international level, that its august sporting prowess was not consigned to the past. Since 1970, Uruguayan soccer had promised much but delivered little. (Fame had given way to notoriety when, at the 1986 World Cup, a Uruguayan defender was shown a red card after 56 seconds.)

The phoenix of the Río de la Plata had risen from the ashes of its own game. Beating Paraguay, 3-0, in the 2011 Copa América final furthered this newfound sense of self. Moreover, in Luis Suárez the country found a player of which it could only have dreamed.

Soccer players have always faced the possibility both of winning redemption and of earning condemnation. Suárez has been such a player. In the 2010 World Cup quarterfinals, he was reproached like a disobedient child for his off-the-field celebration after Ghana’s Asamoah Gyan missed a last-minute penalty kick, which was awarded when Suárez stopped a certain goal with his hands.

The Uruguayans opted for the perspective that this had been the ultimate sacrifice for country, an act infused with the selflessness of a Sydney Carton.

Against Costa Rica, there was no place for Uruguay’s talisman. An injury, the result of a careless challenge at the end of last season, kept Suárez out of the game. The Uruguayans have their theories. This was not the work of some graceless substitute, rather a plot to keep Suárez off the field. It is no secret that paranoia and conspiracy enjoy a symbiotic relationship in the region.

Half an hour before Saturday’s match, the streets of Montevideo begin to empty. Posters of Diego Forlán, with arms crossed (somewhat defensively), look down on the traffic. The legend — “Nothing Matters More Than the World Cup” — speaks for a nation. The street vendors have disappeared. Not even the ubiquitous taxis prowl the boulevards.

For all the hype, the 90 minutes against Costa Rica pass quickly. Uruguay, as ever, shows promise early, with Edinson Cavani scoring from the penalty spot. But three second-half goals from Costa Rica put Uruguay to the sword. Defeat allows Uruguayans to revert to type — a cultured pessimism. “At least we can now watch the World Cup in comfort,” one fan says. Resignation seems to suit these Montevideans more than success. Supporting Uruguay seems a peculiar mix of masochism and nostalgia. A very Uruguayan combination.

WORLD CUP POSTCARD: Montevideo, Uruguay

A version of this article appears in print on , on Page SP5 of the New York edition with the headline: A Nation Teased by a Stale Promise of Supremacy. Order Reprints | Today’s Paper | Subscribe